


Never thought we'd have a last kiss

by Happyeverafterdoesntmeanforever



Category: Doctor Who (1963), Doctor Who (2005), Doctor Who (Big Finish Audio)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-18
Updated: 2018-08-18
Packaged: 2019-06-29 07:13:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15724539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Happyeverafterdoesntmeanforever/pseuds/Happyeverafterdoesntmeanforever
Summary: After the events of America, River grieves her last kiss with her husband. But when his Sixth face turns up, he might just help her find him again.





	Never thought we'd have a last kiss

Their last kiss. 

Never again feel his lips on hers, never again pull him in, those ancient eyes so close, and widening at her proximity- 

She could still taste that kiss, those lips, the way his hand had reached up into her hair before he'd panicked.

He wasn't everything. Those kisses weren't everything. She could have anyone in this bar, if she wanted. 

But it wouldn't be the same. She wouldn't love any of them like she loved the Doctor. 

Their last kiss. 

They'd had hundreds, over the years, on hundreds of planets and throughout history, on the tops of buildings and in dark caves, underwater, early mornings and sensual nights- 

She'd thought there would be hundreds more, that their lives together had just started. A last kiss-

She threw back her shot, ordering an extra large glass of wine. Some alcohol and some good old flirting would do her for tonight. After that- 

She caught a flicker of blonde hair and blue suit as a man sat next to her. She ignored him, taking a gulp of wine. 

"Now, what is a lovely lady like you doing alone at a bar?" 

She turned, a sharp reply on her tongue, but the sight of him stopped her. 

It was the Doctor. 

Not her Doctor. A younger one, a face she couldn't play with. The sixth one, if she wasn't mistaken. 

"Well, I'm not alone now, am I?" 

He blushed bright red, the colour of her dress she was sure he'd noticed, so she ordered him a glass of wine. 

"I- I don't drink wine." 

She raised an eyebrow, setting the glass in front of him. "Well-perhaps-" 

She suppressed her laughter, watching him inspect the glass and its contents. He swirled it well, taking a sip and spitting it back into the glass at once. 

She threw her head back and laughed, and he looked at her quizzically.

"This is not a laughing matter, miss-" 

"Song." She said, ordering him another glass of wine. "River Song." 

"Pretty name." 

She smiled at him then, properly, and she could have sworn his eyes glinted slightly. 

A bemused waiter brought the next glass of wine, and she set it in front of him. He frowned at her, but she arched an eyebrow, and he took another sip. 

It went the same way as the previous one, and her laugh was genuine as she threw her head back again. 

He met her eyes, and she smiled. 

Several hours, many stories, and hundreds of glasses of wine later, the Doctor wiped his eyes as she told one of her best stories. "You tell stories better than anyone I've ever heard," he said, still chuckling, "and I've been to the initi, heard their storytellers." 

"I was hoping to find a wine you liked." She said, gesturing to the glasses filling the table they'd chosen. 

"I don't think that's likely to ever happen, should I live to be 1000.”

 

"Oh, you'll reach that milestone. Had a midlife crisis running from the slitheen, if I remember correctly. Nearly cost us both our lives." 

"What on earth do you mean?" 

She smiled, telling him she knew he'd worked it out. Then she leaned forward, the wine making her reckless, and whispered "Spoilers." 

His eyes widened, and he spluttered as she leaned back into her chair.

"You are a remarkable woman, Miss Song-" 

"Oh, not a miss, I'm afraid." 

He frowned, surprise and a hint of jealousy in his voice as he said "You're married?" 

"Sometimes." She smiled at the thought of those flailing, gangly limbs that soon learnt where they should be. 

"He seems like an always kind of husband." 

"I'm sorry?" She looked up, met his eyes, but they were unreadable. 

"The way you looked, just now. That's not a sometimes kind of husband. One might even call it-" he picked up a wineglass, swirled the contents, "Well, if one fancied, one could call it love." 

He put the glass down, eyes searching her face. 

"And what would you know about that?"

"I don't quite know." He admitted, frowning. "I have a feeling I felt something like that once, only I can't quite remember." He searched her again, and her skin prickled pleasantly under his gaze. "But you- you remind me." 

She didn't dare to hope he was talking about her. That was impossible for so many reasons, not to mention that the Doctor... Well, you couldn't measure him in human terms. 

"So, " he said, brow furrowed in what looked suspiciously like concern, "if you love your husband, why aren't you with him?" 

She looked down quickly, watching the colours in her wine glass. She wouldn't cry- not in front of this Doctor, because he barely knew her, didn't know how weak she could be, and she didn't know how he'd react. Awkwardness would hurt, but comfort... Comfort would be worse. Because tonight she couldn't stand to hide behind spoilers, or deal with the repercussions of the opposite. 

"I'm so sorry, my dear. You've gone quite pale."

She took a deep breath before answering him, hating how her voice shivered. 

"We're both time travellers. We keep meeting in the wrong order. My- his firsts are my lasts." She took another gulp from her wine, but it didn't ease the tightness in her chest. 

"You've got that look about you again. The one you had when I sat down."

"Why did you do that?" 

"I don't quite know." 

She smiled, taking what comfort she could from that. 

"Has something happened?" 

She wouldn't cry. But the concern in his voice, that gentleness, made her resolution progressively harder. 

"We just had our last-my last- kiss." 

There was a slight pause, and she dared to look up at his face. 

 

"If you keep meeting in the wrong order, what's to stop you finding him again?" His face had softened, concern- and something else- written clearly in the lines. 

"It would be too early in his time stream. He'd barely know me." 

Just like this Doctor barely knew her. She'd have loved to spend more time with him, get to know him, but nothing was ever quite the same as her Doctor. He was the only one who knew how dark she could get, how vulnerable she could be. And when he held her anyway- well, the memory of that was what kept her going when sorrow threatened to overwhelm her. 

This Doctor sighed, thinking. "Can't you- forgive me for asking- but couldn't you just find an older version?" 

"I only wish it was that simple. He's- He's not exactly easy to track down." 

She dropped her eyes, cursing herself for telling him too much. She wasn't sure she could deal with the repercussions of this, not tonight. 

There was a rustle and a strange tinkling noise, and when she looked up, the Doctor had produced a contraption with the flourish of his later selves. 

"And how is that going to solve my marital problems?" She asked, raising one eyebrow. 

"It, well, it's a tracking device. The imprint- um-" 

"You can use the imprint on my lips to track him?" 

He nodded, blushing. "Our imprints change throughout our lives, even for my race, so it should be able to find an older version of your husband." 

"If, say, my husband has a habit of changing his face, would this device be able to find an older version of the same face?" 

"I'm sorry?"

"If, for example, my husband was part of a race who periodically changed their faces in a process called, I don't know, regeneration, would your little device be able to find an older version of the same face?" 

"Your husband is a time lord?" 

"Spoilers."

He frowned, about to ask another question, but she cut him off, nervous energy flowing through her veins. 

"You haven't answered my question." 

"Well- well, yes, it would." He fiddled about with his contraption, examining it as if he was seeing it for the first time. 

"Should I take that?" 

He handed it over carefully, and she fiddled around with it, testing for the tells of his inventions. Like most of them, it was clever, ingenious, but far more complicated than was necessary. 

"I press my lips here?" She asked, pointing to the correct place. 

"How did you know that?" 

Because I know you, she wanted to say, but she didn't. "Spoilers." 

She pressed her lips carefully to the contraption. It tingled slightly, but then it was off, cogs and levers twisting and turning until the silver ball containing the imprint reached the little screen at the end. Co-ordinates flashed up, and the heaviness in her chest finally eased.

"Oh, I could just kiss you!" 

"Um- well- wouldn't that be- be being unfaithful?" 

"Spoilers." 

"What do you mean by that word?" 

She stood, her dress fluttering behind her, and met his eyes, her face softening. He was her husband too, even if she'd not met him before, and she only wished she'd had more chance to know him. 

"Aren't we going to find my husband?" 

"You are a remarkable woman, Miss Song." 

"Not a miss, dear. Now, you don't happen to have a- machine-, or ship, perhaps, that could take me to these co-ordinates?"

"I think you knew the answer to that." 

"Very perceptive." She winked at him, and grabbed his hand. "Where is it, then?" 

He looked at her hand in his for a moment, but he didn't complain. "I should lead, shouldn't I?" 

"Go on." 

She laughed at his face, but he led her through the taproom, weaving in and out of tables and other inhabitants. 

"You should know, I'm not the type of man who makes a habit of leading beautiful women out of a bar-" 

"Beautiful?" 

He stopped a moment, looked at her, his face reddening. "I-" 

"I'll take the compliment." She blushed as he led her through the doors, other inhabitants watching. She'd noticed their interest in her all evening- but she was the Doctors, even when he didn't know it. 

"So," she said, savouring the feel of her hand in his, "What were you doing in a bar, if you weren't looking for a beautiful woman?"

"I was following a lead."

"And did you find it?" 

"I'm afraid I got rather distracted." 

"Aforementioned beautiful woman?" 

He turned a brilliant shade of red, and she laughed. "Oh, I love it when you go that colour." 

"Do you know me?" 

"Not yet." 

"I'm sorry?" 

She only grinned, resisted the urge to hold his hand a little tighter, and looked up into the still night, the city lights twinkling all around them. The back streets were quiet, and she had a sudden urge to pull him in and kiss him, just like she'd do if he was older- 

It wouldn't be fair. He didn't know her- even if he had called her beautiful. Even if he'd ignored a mystery to speak to her- 

No. She'd take this little adventure, and hope against anything she'd be able to find an older version of him. 

Thanks to her weakness, this face already knew too much. She had amnesiac lipstick, but she hated doing it to him. Hated all those memories that faded, the moments that survived in her memory alone. 

"Just here." He said, and she smiled at the sight of the Tardis, breaking from his grip and running the couple of steps to meet her. She noticed all the subtle differences, humming slightly as she ran her fingers along the wood. 

He caught up with her, asking with confusion and awe: "Who are you?"

There were those familiar words, that familiar intrigue. Often it thrilled her, but tonight...

Tonight she needed a Doctor who knew her. 

She smiled sadly, mustered seduction into her voice and conjured up a "spoilers." 

She snapped her fingers, and the Tardis obliged. 

"How did you-"

She turned her head and winked at him, stepping inside. 

The Tardis interior- as she so often found- was so different, but so him. It didn't take her a moment to figure out the console,the Tardis humming happily beneath her fingertips. "Hello, old friend." She muttered, and the Tardis hummed louder. 

He ran in, coat and arms flapping. "You can't just- touch my- Tardis!"  
He paused, and she wondered whether there was something about her and the Tardis together that seemed right, even to him. 

"She doesn't seem to mind." She said, stroking the console as she inputted the co-ordinates. 

"How- how are you doing that?" 

Oh, this face was definitely hot flustered. Probably not a good thing, considering the circumstances. 

"Spoilers."

"What do you mean by that?"

He moved beside her, the curls of their hair mingling. "Who are you?" 

"I can't tell you." She said, quietly, wishing more than anything she could. 

He sighed, and she smiled. "I'm sorry, my love." 

His eyes widened, and she cursed herself. She'd have to wipe his memory, all because of her weakness and that stupid, adorable little sigh. 

"Who are you, River?" 

She closed her eyes at her name falling from his lips. He said it differently to the later doctors, but there was care and intrigue in it, along with something she couldn't place.

"I can't tell you that." 

He was silent for a moment, the secrets hanging between them. 

"It's only, when a beautiful woman knows more about me and my Tardis than I do, calls me that, and is trying to find her time travelling, time Lord husband, one's mind wanders." 

She smiled tenderly at him, his smooth words undone by fiddling hands. 

"Not yet, I'm afraid." She told him. "I shouldn't even be here." 

"I had a feeling you would say something like that."

His voice was subdued, quiet, and her hearts broke for him as she turned away and applied her lipstick. 

"I've inputted the co-ordinates." She said, just as quietly. 

"Time for you to find your husband." 

She turned back to him and smiled, that stupid face swimming into her vision. "Don't be too disappointed." 

"Spoilers." He said, and she made a silent promise. 

She'd find this version again, share more than a night. Another memory wipe would be necessary, but one day, perhaps, she'd be able to return all those memories. And in the meantime, she'd hold them tight enough for the both of them. 

Looking at the man before her, she loved him. For he was the Doctor, and she knew, with enough time, she'd love him like he was hers.

She pushed the final few buttons, and the Tardis moved smoothly into the time vortex. 

"I do hope my suspicions are correct." He said, brows furrowed as he looked at her. "You really are a remarkable woman." 

"It's a shame I can't stay for the compliments." 

"You could stay." 

"Is that an invitation?" Her voice was dripping with suggestion, and his eyes widened. 

"I- well, I-" 

She looked at him for a moment, memorising the lines of this particular face. 

"Just tell me." He said, recovering.  
"are my suspicions correct?"  
"You might have to tell me your suspicions before I can answer that." 

He laughed. "Remarkable." Then he frowned, taking a deep breath.

"I wondered- well, I hoped, I suppose, that you might be, that is to say, I might be your- you might be my-" 

"Your wife?" 

He smiled, and it spread across his whole face, lighting his eyes up. It tempted her to ask him to do it again, but she didn't want to look like a besotted idiot.  
She stepped forward, letting their hair mingle again. His eyes were a whirlwind of emotions and confusion, but there was a spark she hadn't expected.  
She leaned close, intending to give him a quick kiss. 

But she wasn't prepared for the way he kissed her back, leaning into her, his hand finding its way to her hair before the amnesia kicked in. 

She lowered him gently to the floor before the Tardis landed smoothly, allowing herself to run her fingers gently along his cheekbones and kiss his forehead.

She would find him again. But now... It was time to find her Doctor. 

She threw open the doors, meeting the painted wood of another Tardis. 

It was the 11th Doctor's Tardis, a smarter exterior hiding the chaos within. But whether it was a Doctor who knew her- 

The 6th Doctor's Tardis was dematerializing behind her, and she gave her a last pat before knocking on the other Tardis. 

He threw open the door, fumbling and flustered, but when he saw her, he stopped. 

"River!" 

"Where are we?" She asked desperately, hoping that the light in his eyes meant he knew her. 

"Have we done America?" 

"Yes." She breathed, and leaned in close, kissing him gently

To her surprise, he reciprocated, those long fingers tangling the curls in her hair. 

"Have we done the- the pyramid?" She asked. She'd thought she'd seen the last of the versions who'd married her, thought a younger, more vulnerable River would get those times. But if he knew her- 

"Yes." He breathed, pushing a stray curl behind her ear. 

She collapsed into him, not sure why she was letting him see so much weakness. But he knew she needed him. He'd seen her at her worst, held her hand through those times. 

And now- now, as his wife, it was her turn to hold his hand, to guide him through his darkest times. 

"Are you alright, River?" 

"Yes." He held her closer, curled his fingers through her hair. Her head on his chest, his arm around her waist, she sighed in contentment. 

That hadn't been their last kiss. Time could be rewritten, and there would be hundreds more meetings, thousands more kisses. She would make certain of it.


End file.
